One of the great privileges of my life has been worshipping with Christians all around the world. As I travel, I always try to prioritize Sunday mornings with a local church, and that’s true whether it is in North America or North Africa and whether it worships in English or another language. And while I’m always especially interested in worshipping with a church that is Reformed and Baptist like my own, I am also glad to worship in any of the gospel-preaching Protestant traditions. And so I’ve spent Sunday mornings with Baptist and Presbyterian congregations, Brethren and Anglican congregations, Christian Missionary Alliance and Dutch Reformed congregations, and many more besides.
It can be jarring to worship in a church that adheres to an unfamiliar tradition. Customs may be strange and patterns may differ from what I am accustomed to. And it is at the point of such differences that I immediately find myself tempted to pass judgment. After all, my tradition and my church have thought deeply and come to firm convictions about the elements and circumstances of our worship. Everything we include and everything we exclude has been carefully considered. My first instinct, then, is to assume that other churches have not thought well about these matters or perhaps not thought about them at all. My instinct is to assume that a church is faithful to Scripture only to the degree that it is similar to own.
But I have learned that a crucial discipline when visiting other like-minded churches is to observe without judgment. It is to observe quietly and humbly and then, when appropriate, to ask clarifying questions. And more often than not, I have been encouraged and even challenged by these clarifications. This is true whether the church has been around the corner or around the world.
In one church I looked at the bulletin and saw a woman listed there as a pastor. This surprised me because I had been under the impression that this church was complementarian. As I observed further, I saw that several other positions also listed a female pastor. A clarifying question helped it make sense. In this country, they use “minister” or “ministry” where we use “pastor.” Hence, they were every bit as complementarian as my own church but simply use different nomenclature. Their “women’s pastor” is our “women’s ministry leader.” I was glad that I had withheld judgment.
In another church, I immediately noticed that the men and women split up when they entered the sanctuary so that men sat on one side with women on the other. This cuts hard against my own cultural understanding of the equality of men and women. But when I asked, I was told that separating the sexes in formal settings is normal in this culture and that it would be a significant hindrance to evangelism if men and women were to sit side by side. Men and women alike would be uncomfortable sitting pressed together. I was glad I had withheld judgment.
I have attended churches whose services included an element of dance. This was not interpretive dance or dancing in the Spirit, but a style that was obviously celebratory. I learned that in these cultures no celebration is complete without a dance and that it would be more scandalous to omit one than to have one. They also explained their understanding of Scripture to show their conviction that even while God does not demand this kind of dance, he also does not forbid it. Once more, I was glad that I had been slow to judge.
In still another, I attended a prayer meeting in which every person prayed at the same time—hundreds of voices crying out to the Lord at once. In my setting, we apply the biblical admonition that “all things should be done decently and in order” to mean that one person prays at a time and then ends his or her prayer with a hearty “amen.” This then signals that someone else can begin to pray. But a church in which everyone prayed at the same time struck me as chaotic and disorderly. Yet when I asked, I was told that this church arose out of a time of revival and that the kind of fervent prayer that birthed the church has forever remained present in the church. Not only that but the prayer meetings are carefully organized and led—just in a different way from my own setting. As I continued to observe, I felt a growing appreciation for that kind of prayer and was thankful that I had been slow to judge.
I have been in churches in which I was told they have female pastors but then learned that something had been lost in translation so that what they called pastors actually function as what I would term deacons. I have been in churches in which women were not permitted to participate in certain elements of the service that I believe are open to all believers but received a helpful explanation of why such public participation would be inappropriate in that culture. And, as it happens, I have been in churches in which women were permitted to participate in elements of the service that I believe are restricted to pastors but received a helpful explanation of why they believe such participation honors Scripture. I could go on and on.
I might not agree with all of these decisions even after gaining the necessary interpretive facts, but in every case, I have had an opportunity to learn and to grow in my respect for other Christians and the way they’ve wrestled through the issues and come to their decisions. And so, because my tendency is always to judge before carefully observing, I have trained myself instead to observe without judgment. It has become a key discipline as I visit other churches and join them in worship.
